Steam That Billows Like Smoke
by Ninja Basket
Summary: With the steam rising up to meet the horizon, who can tell what lies beyond it? Or what lies behind your back. Steampunk AU.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, AU time. I really hope you guys like this one. I've been on both a Hong kong and Steampunk kick, so you get this. Thanks to tsuchifuru for beta-ing.

Okay, before I seriously confuse anyone: This story is set in the FUTURE. About year 2684, just so you know, m'kay?

Not much else to say other than I hope you like and I hope you review.

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Hong Kong smiled against the steam in the room. Hundreds of people filled China's home to celebrate the peace treaty that had been signed between North and South Korea. Technically, there was alcohol being served, and technically, Hong Kong wasn't of the legal age, but that hadn't stopped him from sneaking out of bed to see what was happening at the party.

As he made his way through the overcrowded hallway, lots of the guests gave Hong Kong strange looks. _Who is that child?_ Someone's face would ask its friends. _Oh, just the curse of the British Empire._ Another face would reply._ The one not even that pirate would take._

In the main room, the Korean twins shone brighter than the gleaming silver of the guns strapped to their sides.

Everyone had to carry a weapon with them at all times these days. Although more and more countries were forming together and signing peace treaties, the tension in the world had never been greater. It seemed like everywhere you went, there was someone just waiting to attack you.

The pipa was being plucked with more and more vigor, and the erhu was strummed more emphatically, until suddenly, it all stopped, and a horrible hush fell over the room.

Then, there was a loud _thmp _and the room erupted with screams as the guests tried to race outside.

Hong Kong tried to see what was happening, but all he could see was South Korea's panicked face as he picked him up and carried him outside.

It was all black after that, the city's emergency sirens screeching like lost souls.

. . .

When Hong Kong woke up the next morning, something told him that the night before was not a nightmare. He was on the ground, in China's garden, and his head hurt more than it should have.

And nothing could hurt you in a nightmare, right?

For the most part he was alone, save for all of the dead bodies that were sprawled across most of the lawn. There were puddles of blood like rain on the ground.

Hong Kong bit back the pain in his left leg. He rose to his feet and shook a bit too much for his comfort. He limped to the house and looked inside.

It was completely abandoned. Smashed remains of glasses pressed into the bottoms of Hong Kong's feet, although the cold had numbed his body do much it was only a dull pain. The instruments that had been so joyously played the night before were now spread across the floor like garbage.

He looked around the corner hesitantly. That's when the nightmare really began.

Laying face down on the floor was an all-too-familiar figure with dark black hair, pale skin, and a red changshan. Hong Kong let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. This was the body that fell last night, the one that frightened everyone beyond belief.

China was lying on the ground, dead.

Hong Kong dropped to his knees. England had always told him that crying was showing weakness. But England wasn't there, so he cried and cried until he physically couldn't anymore.

_No,_ Hong Kong thought, _China isn't dead. _

He told himself this over and over again until he spotted the wine goblet resting in China's hand. The beverage had long since drained from cup and was now staining the floor.

Hong Kong stayed at China's side, holding his mother tight around the middle. He hadn't noticed he was staring at anything until his eyes focused on something. There was a shimmery gold chain around China's neck. Hong Kong lifted the chain, and there was China's old pocket-watch, swinging back and forth.

He closed his eyes and clasped his hand around it. Oh, how he had loved that watch as a child.

The door to China's house swung open, which meant he wasn't alone anymore. Hong Kong pulled at the chain until the clasp broke. He stuffed it into his pocket and looked to the door.

The Koreas and Japan were standing there. North Korea grimaced and South Korea had his face scrunched up like he was trying not to cry. Japan stepped over the debris and put his arms around Hong Kong.

"Oh, Hong Kong, I'm so sorry." Japan said. "We were hoping to tell you before you saw this but," Japan looked at his feet.

Hong Kong nodded and wiped a tear away from his face. "What happened?"

Japan's head jerked up. "We don't exactly know who poisoned him, Hong-kun."

"My money's on Russia doing it." North Korea interjected. "Those two were on the brink of war anyway."

"It seems this attack has caused a world-wide panic." Japan said. "All of the other nations are in lockdown. And, well, Hong Kong,"

Hong Kong lifted his head from where it lay on China's chest. "What?"

"Well, we tried to convince him otherwise, but–"

"China's boss wants you to go stay with England and wait the war out." South Korea said.

Japan cleared his throat. "Thank you Korea. Hong Kong, it's just too dangerous for you to stay in China. You're too important as a resource. And since England _is_ your father…"

Hong Kong looked at China's cold, emotionless face. He brushed a few hairs away from China's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Hong Kong."

"I know." South Korea and Japan pulled Hong Kong into a tight hug and led him out of the room.

_China? What's that you're putting on?_

_Oh! Hong Kong! It's a pocket watch, but I always thought it looked better around my neck, aru._

_Can I see it?_

_No, it's very fragile and very delicate. I don't really think you're old enough, aru._

_Okay._

. . .

That night, sleep wouldn't come fast enough. It wasn't that Hong Kong wanted to sleep; it's just that it would spare him these awful feelings.

He was leaving first thing in the morning, and this was the last night he'd be able to sleep in this room, even though it wasn't exactly his room anymore. All of his belongings had been packed away into suitcases that would be shipped off to England.

Hong Kong closed his eyes tightly and tried not to think of what saying good-bye would be like.

. . .

The next morning was just as awful as Hong Kong predicted. Japan made a large breakfast, but no one ate.

An hour later, Hong Kong was boarding the train that would take him to France, where England would pick him up.

Hong Kong looked behind the crowds of people and billows of smoke coming from the train to his family, all waving at him.

Hong Kong wanted to run to them, hug and hold them and cry in their arms, but such wasn't allowed. Inhaling to avoid sobbing, he turned around and kept walking, trying to shake the feeling that this was the last time he'd see his family alive.

. . .

It was a two week train ride, and by the middle of the first day, Hong Kong was ready to get off. Between kids running around the car and the engine, there was just too much noise.

The train usually took children to Europe when the orphanage they lived at in Asia got too crowded.

Hong Kong felt strangely like one of them, since he hadn't seen England in about fifty years.

_Consider yourself lucky that you have a family in Europe to take care of you!_ Hong Kong could hear Japan telling him._ A blood relative who will keep you safe._

Hong Kong spent the rest of the day asleep, trying to make the journey go by faster. When he woke up in the middle of the night, he cried.

He had a _home_ in China. He was throwing that away along with his family.

He clutched the only connection he had to China in his hand and let the rhythmic _ticks_ lure him back to sleep.

. . .

Two weeks later, the train landed in Calais. All of the other children aboard the train raced out to the platform, awed by such a new environment.

Hong Kong had been to this particular platform loads of times before, so he retrieved his luggage and made his way out to the streets. Despite it being mid-October, it was warm and sunny, forcing Hong Kong to shed his coat.

Japan had been right when he said the world was in a lockdown. Even though this was probably the nicest day of the season, there was nobody on the street. The citizens were all looking out of their windows at Hong Kong with wide eyes.

Police were stationed at almost every corner, and all of them were armed. Hong Kong tried to stay away from them as much as possible, but it was hard since there were at least twenty within ten feet of him. One began to yell at Hong Kong in a language that sounded like several hisses and hushing tones.

Hong Kong was ready to respond, when a hand fell on his shoulder. The blood stopped in his veins.

_I'm going to die, whoever killed China is here for me and I'm going to die._

"My God, Hong Kong, what've you gotten yourself into, boy?" said a familiar voice.

Hong Kong looked up and saw England, dressed head to toe like a pirate, a bronze spyglass hanging from his belt. Hong Kong had heard that during the Steam Revolution, England had resorted back into piracy, but he hadn't believed it until now.

"England?"

"Who else, Hong Kong?" England turned on his heel and beckoned for Hong Kong to follow. Hong Kong really started to believe England was a pirate when he was led onto one of the largest ships he'd ever seen.

"Who's Victoria?" Hong Kong asked, gesturing towards the name delicately painted across the front of the ship.

"She was, in my opinion, one of the greatest queens ever to serve Britain. Come now." England said cockily. Hong Kong followed him below the deck.

"This shall be your room." England said, extending an arm to keep the door open. The room was nice enough, but not nearly as nice as the room he had back in China. It had a bed in the corner next to a small window, and a desk for studying. There was an oil lamp on the desk along with a bottle of ink and several rolls of parchment. "My room is just down the hall, and the worker's quarters are just another level down. I don't want to see you there under any circumstances, do you understand me? Meals are usually served at seven thirty, although I can understand if you're not hungry as of late, and-_bloody Hell!"_

There was a loud ripping sound from the dock, and both England and Hong Kong ran up to see what it was. America was standing proudly in front of the dock. When he saw England, he tipped his large cowboy hat.

"Howdy, England. Whatdya think of my new ride?" he said as he nodded towards the plane illegally parked in town square.

"Goddamn it, America! You can't just land that god-awful plane wherever you please!"

"Psh! You're one to talk, England. Plus, it's me we're talking about. France owes me one anyway." America winked at the policeman standing about six feet away. He then directed his attention to Hong Kong. "Hey, I heard about China. I'm sorry." Hong Kong tried to respond, but before he could, America looked at England and blurted out, "Sorry you have to live with this stick in the mud!" he proceeded to laugh like it was the funniest thing he'd heard in a while.

"I will have you know," England began. "Most people wouldn't call a pirate a 'stick in the mud'. Apologize to Hong Kong for being an insolent little−"

"Whatever, England." America said as he strapped his goggles around his face, put his gloves on and hopped in his plane. "Well, I got a lot of ground to cover, countries to check up on. See you next time!" And with that he started the plane and flew out of sight.

"Thank God that's over with. Now, we have to set sail. I must be in Sweden by the midday tomorrow; I have parts for _Victoria_ on hold there." England ushered Hong Kong onto the ship_._ "By the way, Hong Kong, where did you acquire that necklace you're wearing?"

"Oh, it's not a necklace, it's a-"

"A pocket-watch, yes. And you wear it just like your mother did."

"How do you know-"

"Hong Kong, I gave China that watch just as the Revolution began. I was actually hoping he'd give it to _you_ one day."

"He didn't get that chance, England."

. . .

"I brought you dinner, in case you were hungry." England stood at Hong Kong's door with a plate of food so burnt it was almost inedible. When he was greeted with silence, he walked over to the desk where Hong Kong was scribbling something down on one of the rolls of parchment.

England set the food down. "Hong Kong, how are you doing? _Really_."

Hong Kong looked up at him with sleep-deprived eyes. "I'm going to find whoever did this to China." He paused and looked at the food with slight disgust. "I'm going to find them and I'm going to kill them."

. . .

Denmark slammed the paper down onto the table and took a long gulp from his beer bottle. "Agh, Norge, I can't believe that _idiot_ America is blaming all these attacks on Iceland."

Norway sat down and nodded. "He thinks the books Iceland writes are master plans to take over the world. And the worst part is that America _also _thinks _we're_ doing all of the work for him."

"The world we're living is becoming a terrible place, Norge."

Norway rose from his seat and poured himself another cup of coffee. "I know. And while the humans can die, we just have to keep living in it."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Whoa-ho it's been a long time since this was updated. Thanks to tsuchifuru for being an awesome beta. Not much else to say, other than..._

_Review if you liked it!_

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Hong Kong sped uneasily down one of the long hallways on the _Victoria,_ cringing at the blood running down his back. His breath hitched with every step he took, and he stopped to flinch at creak of the water-worn wood. In his left hand was a bloodied knife, which his right hand kept reaching to.

When he reached his room, he locked the door and flung himself onto his bed. He placed the knife down and allowed his mind a chance to re-sensitize itself. He then dragged himself off his bed and crawled to his desk. He pulled out a fountain pen and the long roll of parchment that served as his travel journal. In rushed Chinese he jotted down:

"First kill today."

Hong Kong read the five words over and over again to himself. He re-rolled the parchment and stuffed it back into his desk.

He looked at the knife and the disgusting red liquid covering the blade. It made him absolutely sick. He walked to the small window by his bed and watched the waves crash against the side of the boat. He looked at the knife once more and threw it out of the window as hard as he could. Immediately, it was swallowed by the frothy brine.

Just as its victim had been.

_It was morning and Hong Kong arrived in the galley just as England had told him to do. He was alone there, all except for a young man who mopped the floor._

_On the end of the long counter that served as a table were a plate of scones and a cup of tea. There was a note under the plate and in delicate handwriting was Hong Kong's name and England's seal._

_Hong Kong grabbed the plate and bit into one of the scones. As he sipped at the cold tea, he could feel the young man's eyes on him, although every time he tried to return the glance, the young man looked away._

_Hong Kong swallowed. "What?"_

_The man looked at him for a moment and returned to mopping. "Nofing. It's just that we've all 'eard stories 'bout what happened to ya." The man spoke with a defined Cockney accent. He was most likely uneducated, which explained why he was mopping the floor for England._

_Hong Kong stared at him incredulously. "Did you hear it from England?"_

"_No, sir. The Cap'n forbade us from speaking t'of it at all."_

_Hong Kong looked down at the plate and nodded. He would have to thank England for that later._

"'_Ow'd you do it?"_

"_What?" Hong Kong asked._

"_You dun't expect me to believe it, do you? That some'n would just up n' kill the wealthiest man in China an' not 'is kid? How'd you kill China?"_

_Hong Kong set his tea down and picked a butter knife off the counter. He crept over to the man and when he wasn't looking, drove the knife into his stomach._

"_I didn't do it!" Hong Kong hissed. "But I'd do it like this!" He twisted the knife and felt the pressure applied as the knife collided with an organ. He pulled the knife out and drove it into another part of the man's body until he was on the ground, dead. _

_Hong Kong stood back and looked at the corpse on the floor, horrified with what he had just done._

_He looked at the blood spilling all over the galley. Someone would _definitely_ notice that. He kicked the bucket of mop water over and let it mask most of the blood. It would probably dry more evenly._

_Next was the body. Hong Kong didn't want to touch it at all, but he figured it had to be done. He picked up the mop and used the handle to hoist the man into a somewhat kneeling position. He then slipped the man onto his back and shivered at the blood sinking through his shirt and running down his back. _

_He trudged to the hallway with the nearest window and prayed that no one would come out of their cabins. He got to a window and began to stuff the man out of it. His blood froze when the half-lidded eyes opened and stared at him._

_He gasped, made haste in throwing the man out of the window, slammed it shut, and ran._

_. . ._

The _Victoria_ landed in Sweden early the next morning. Hong Kong could hear the crew yelling at each other as they unloaded the ship, taking stock and seeing what needed to be replenished.

Hong Kong groggily got out of bed and got dressed. He hadn't slept at all that night. Between killing the sailor and the ordeal with China, he was constantly plagued by nightmares. As he slipped his goggles around his neck, he began to wonder if anyone noticed the sailor was gone at all.

Hong Kong walked onto the main deck of the ship to find England, amid the hustle and bustle of dismemberment.

"There you are, Hong Kong." England said. He walked over to the boy and placed his left index under his eyes, where dark circles had appeared. "You look dreadfully tired. Did you sleep alright?"

Hong Kong nodded. "Are we disembarking soon?"

England laughed and ruffled Hong Kong's hair. "That eager to get on solid ground?" he laughed. "_You _may leave anytime, but I should be at least half an hour more. Go and pack your bags if you really need something to do, boy."

Hong Kong nodded and followed a crew member onto the dock.

. . .

Just as promised, England arrived on the dock half an hour later. It was only a mile's journey from the harbor to the Sweden's house, but England insisted that he and Hong Kong wait for a car to take them.

"Do you know how dangerous the world has become, Hong Kong?" England asked as he slid into the passenger's seat of the cab. "In just three short days, half the world is in a war with _someone_. It's god-awful." He reached behind himself and placed a hand on Hong Kong's knee. "Just promise me you won't get yourself tied up in it."

"I promise." Hong Kong muttered.

they both knew keeping that promise would be impossible.

. . .

Sweden's house was well-hidden in the middle of a forest. Hong Kong could only imagine that it helped him and the rest of his family stay safe.

When England stepped out of the car he was nearly knocked over by a little boy with goggles who was shouting something about catching fireflies.

"Sealand!" Finland cried as he raced after the boy. Before England could let out a long list of obscenities, Finland caught his breath and said, "I am _so_ sorry about him, England. He's just a little…riled up."

England raised an eyebrow and scoffed. "Honestly, every time I see him I'm just that much more ashamed."

Finland looked around for a happier topic. He then spotted Hong Kong, who was standing by the cab, trying not to be noticed.

"And you must be Hong Kong!" Finland said. "I'm _so_ sorry about China, sweetheart; you're probably feeling awful, aren't you? Oh, did that bring up bad memories, I'm sorry, you look upset. You've probably heard a lot about China, and it's probably making you feel really sad." Hong Kong tried to answer, but before he could, Finland interrupted him. "If you want to wait inside while I get Sweden, I have some coffee brewed that you're more than welcome to."

"That sounds lovely." England said as calmly as he could. "Come, Hong Kong."

. . .

When they got inside, England and Hong Kong sat down on a large couch in the middle of the room. On the table was a dish of what looked like licorice. Hong Kong reached forward to grab some, but England slapped his hand away.

"That's salmiakki." England said in a hushed tone. "You don't want _anything_ to do with that." Hong Kong nodded and put his hand back on his lap.

Within a few minutes, Sweden appeared in the room and England rose to greet him. They both spoke in whispers. Hong Kong heard his name and looked up to meet Sweden's harsh gaze.

The two older men left the room and Hong Kong was alone. Pictures were hung all around the room, almost painting the walls with smiling faces.

Suddenly, something caught Hong Kong's eye. On one of the shelves was a box labeled 'To China' in scribbles. Hong Kong opened the box, and before him was the most beautiful spyglasses he had ever seen in his life. It was polished gold with intricate designs of dragons and flowers on it.

Just as he held it up to eye, there was a crash from the second story of the house. Hong Kong quickly slipped the spyglass under his tailcoat. The noise stopped briefly, and Hong Kong went up to investigate.

As he made his way up the stairs, the people in the pictures stopped smiling and before long, the pictures of the Nordic family were replaced by newspaper articles. A few of the papers were singed, like someone had taken them from a fire.

Hong Kong's heart froze as he heard voices yelling at each other through one of the walls. He ducked into a nearby hall. He couldn't be seen, but he could certainly hear the argument.

"_Do you have any idea what your stories are doing for you, Iceland? People are just looking for a reason to destroy you, and starting a war is a pretty damn valid reason if you ask me!"_ One of the voices shouted. It was hoarse, as if it had been yelling for hours.

"_I'm not starting wars; I'm just telling people what's going on in the world!"_ This voice was softer and younger, almost hallow sounding.

"_Iś, America thinks _you_ attacked China. I'm already too busy keeping the Dutch Army off your doorstep, and I don't think even Denmark could keep the American army at bay!"_

"_Get out."_ The hallow voice calmly.

"_What did you say to me?"_

"_Get out, Noregur"_

Even Hong Kong recoiled as something glass smashed against the wall. All was silent except for a few hiccups of crying, so he crept out from his hiding place.

As he was sneaking past, one of the doors opened wide, and Hong Kong was nose to nose with a man who had blonde hair with a cross shaped pin messily keeping his bangs in order.

The man with the cross in his hair studied him, surprised, and scoffed. He pushed past Hong Kong and ran down the stairs, slamming every door he passed through.

Hong Kong looked through the door where all the yelling had come from. Inside was the white-haired boy from the pictures. He was wiping his eyes and nose with the back of his sleeve, but when he saw Hong Kong staring at him, he jumped back a little.

He walked to the desk in the corner of the room, opened a drawer and pulled out a small dagger. "Who are you." He said darkly.

Hong Kong's eyes widened as the boy started walking forward with the knife pointed straight at him. "I-I'm…"

"You're here to kill me, right? America sent you, didn't he?"

"No, I'm here with-"

"Then you're from Holland!" Iceland threw the dagger. Hong Kong ducked as the blade soared over his head and hit the wall.

"Hong Kong!" England cried from downstairs. "Get down here this instant!"

Hong Kong did just that. He ran from the room as quickly as he could. The white-haired boy followed him down though.

By the door were England, Sweden, Finland, the man from earlier, and another man dressed in a long trench coat.

"Hong, these are the Scandinavian countries. They are probably the most ready for whatever is about to happen-completely self-sufficient. They're our new allies, so you'll be seeing a lot of them."

Hong Kong sighed and looked back at the white-haired boy who looked just as disappointed.

"As you know, this is Sweden and Finland, and this here is Norway, and over there, I see you've met Iceland." England's brow furrowed. "Our resident, _in-debt_, pundit."

England turned to Sweden. "I once again thank you for the saber, and I expect you'll have the _Victoria's_ new engine ready by next week?"

Sweden nodded and answered with a muffled "Y'ssir."

England looked at Hong Kong. "And I believe I have a surprise for you."

Outside, Hong Kong was just about to open the cab door when Iceland came darting after him.

"Hong Kong!" he yelled. He ran up to Hong Kong. "Sorry…things…went badly in there." He said, catching his breath.

"It's fine." Hong Kong said.

"Listen," said Iceland. He checked to make sure England wasn't looking. "You dropped this in my room." He spoke quietly as he handed Hong Kong the spyglass. "I won't tell if you don't."

. . .

Later that evening, as Hong Kong and England drove back to the harbor; Hong Kong pulled out the spyglass and admired how the bronze sparkled under the moonlight.


End file.
